Only in my Dreams. One.
Here is the first chapter of my story. Read & Reviews are appreciated 
ONE
I blink three times.
Once; and he’s cupping her face gently in his hands and my lips are dry from being parted so long.
Twice; she’s grinning happily and leaning in, their lips touch and all I can do is blink again and pray this is all a dream.
Three times; and they’re still kissing as I stand idle in the hallway.
A cool breeze blows by me and a few kids hurry off to class. I feel awkward just standing here so I let my feet move forward and force my eyes to look away.
I’m off to class, it’s the last day of school my name is Hannah, I’m 16. I live a pretty normal life with my mom and brother; we live in a small one story on the corner of a street. I live three houses down from my best friend Olivia, the one who was just kissing that boy. That boys name is Aaron.
I chew gently at the inside of my lip as I sit down to class; it’s bound to be boring, just watching some stupid school regulation video. Which pretty much means I’ll sit through class while the little mermaid blares on the crappy speakers of the schools small TV.
The classroom I’m in is dull, it’s last period which means its math. My teacher loves Disney movies so when Snow White’s opening clips roll past; I’m in no state of shock. I run a hand quickly through my black hair which curled nicely even though I slept with it in a pony tail. Before I know it, it’s about an hour into the movie and I’m doodling mindlessly. A girl next to me is looking at my paper and I flush crimson, laying my arms over it before she can read anything more, because I already know she’s seen the stupid heart my hand has drawn and the stupid Hannah + Aaron I’d scribbled in it with messy scrawl.
I like Aaron, he’s my best friend. He’s liked my other best friend Olivia for two days, and now they’re probably still sucking face in the hallway. They’re cool, well Aaron is, so Olivia doesn’t care that I like him. She kissed him anyway because she wants to fit in- she’s always wanted to be in the ‘in crowd’. And no girl in their right mind would turn down Aaron. Aaron and I have known each other since we were about 5, he has always been cute but over the years the better friends we became the cuter he got. After a while cute turned to hot and hot turned to sexy and sexy turned to breathtaking.
The school bell rings and I stand up. I didn’t bother bringing a bag today, it’s the last day and no one will want to sign my yearbook anyways. I let my feet brush the floor as I stumble into the bright sun light. A cool breeze blew by me and I bit my lip softly until I felt the metallic taste of blood fill my mouth and winced. Ew.
The wind is cool as it toys with the ends of my hair; my hands have wound together tightly. Aaron lives down the street from me as well, so today will be a long walk home. He jogged over to me and swung his arms around my shoulders.
“Anna” He breathed and kissed my forehead.
It’s just a stupid thing he always does, brotherly even, there’s no trace of actual feeling in his movements towards me. Another stupid thing he does is call me Anna. Even though he knows how much it pisses me off.
“Hey Air.” I giggled, I’m beside myself as I reach up to pat his head like a child, trying to be calm cool and collected. Of course all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry for a few hours. Then I should be ok to face them.
“Olivia and I are going to walk to Starbucks, wanna come?” He was grinning now as he pulled away to glance at Olivia. She had hiked up her skirt quite a bit. She’s smirking at him and there’s something in his eyes that tells me I should leave now. I avoided most of the school rush and turned away, “Just text me. I’ve got to get home.” I nod and smile apologetically.
He didn’t care, he’s already walking off towards her and she’s got her arms wrapped around his waist. I flush. Partly in anger, and partly in embarrassment because I’m still looking and I’m jealous. Very, very jealous.
I turn away and glower with deep golden brown eyes at the portables I’m walking towards. It’s stupid because now I’ve got to walk home all by myself and sure I’d be mobbed my Michelle – the perky, too friendly girl I’ve known since sixth grade. So I basically ran through the grass and towards the area my house is in.
A blue car drives by and I case after it.
“Michael!” I hollered his name so I’m sure he sees me. He stopped, rolled down the window and looks at me with his eyes peeled.
“What to do want.” Of course his voice is angry.
Sibling rivalry. We haven’t gotten along… ever. Of course Mom always claims we did, she’s got pictures of us playing with teddy bears and Lego when we were little. He looks nothing like me, we’ve got the same eye color but that’s about it. His hair is light brown like Dad’s was. But Dad is dead; he died in a car accident when I was 15. I love my Dad, he was my favorite but I still love mom all the same.
Mom works hard to keep food on the table and to have dinner in the fridge between her two jobs, working at Nordstrom and Crate and Barrel. At least the woman gets good discounts. She’s an amazing mom but I feel bad that she’s got to do all the work. For once in my brother’s life he felt bad too. He started working when he turned 16, now he’s 18 he’s going to a college prep place that’s a few miles away from home so he lives with us still. He works at the grocery store around the corner from our house; he’s got a blue car. I’m not sure what kind.
“I want a ride home.” I murmured and looked at him with wide begging eyes.
“Aren’t you walking home with lover boy?” Michael had adopted that name for Aaron since he found my diary in sixth grade, but luckily he’s never once said it in front of him. For that, I love my brother. We never get along but he knows what to say and what not to.
“No, he’s got a hot date with Olivia.”
There’s something in my tone that makes him lean across and open up the passenger seat. Maybe it’s the fact that my voice breaks, or maybe it’s the tears I can feel welling up in my eyes.
“Get in, kid.” He grinned at me.
And I know we’re ok, because we hate each other, but we get along on occasion. And he’s always hated to see me cry. Unless, of course, he’s the reason for the tears.
I walked around the car and climbed into the leather seat, the sweet smell of my brother’s aftershave welcoming me into the car as well as the way the leather curves familiarly against my back and butt.
The car ride is interesting, he let me pick the radio station for once and told me I can put it on as loud as I want, but I don’t because when I get sad I get stressed out and when I get stressed out I get headaches. Migraines more like. The kind that last for about two days before they fade completely.
Soon we turned around the corner to home and it stands there; a nice one story with a small patch of flowers by the pathway leading to the front door. Michael pulled onto the driveway outside and parked his car there because Mom’s car is always in the garage when she gets home. This way he doesn’t have to pull out of the garage and down the driveway for mom to get her car inside.
It’s stupid because his car is quite a bit nicer then Mom’s. But whatever floats their boat, really. They’re the reason I can’t get my own car. So in a way I’m excited for him to move away and go off to college so I have a place to park my car, and a car to park on the driveway in place of his.
Though when he moves away I’ll miss him. And no doubt I’ll be scared being home alone every day and most nights. Whatever, more excuses to hang out with Aaron.
And I could have Olivia over.
But I wasn’t really quite sure where we stood at this exact moment, because well when your so-called-best friend makes out with the guy you like right in front of you, well there’s bound to be some mixed, mostly angry feelings.
I hear Michael’s smooth voice saying my name as he grabbed some tissues from the box mom has put into his car and hands them to me, waking me from my thoughts.
“You ok?” He shook my shoulders a little and I blinked a few times.
But blinking just makes me think about the hallway and about how I tried to pretend it was a dream, but that didn’t work out well. Or at all. It didn’t work at all, and I wasn’t going to lie. In fact it made it all more real, worse and more crisp. Because each time I had blinked my eyes it was like I was watching some terrible movie unfold in front of me.
Like I was watching a murder.
But really the only thing being ‘killed’ was my heart.
I blinked again and stood up, almost falling into my brother because he was standing too close to the door of the car. Well not completely, it was also because my eyes were a little fuzzy. No big. Really, I’d stop crying in just a few moments I just needed to let a few tears fall because I’d been holding that all in for the day.
I left the warm interior of the car and stand up, walking into the house and slipped through the wood door and into my room. It’s fresh looking with green walls and a simple bed with plaid sheets on it. The bed is white washed wood. It’s simple and cheep looking, I’ve had it since I was eight. I’m surprised I still fit in it; I’m also surprised that it hasn’t broken. The smell in my room is the same as always, there’s a small window on the only wall that is connected to the outside and when I leave it open my room smells like the flowers outside. And when it’s closed my room always smells like those lovely cinnamon glade plug ins my mom buys so even when the house is a mess it smells ok so no one cares.
The familiar things in my room make me feel a bit better. I curl up under my flannel winter sheets that I’ve yet to change and pulled the blankets up to my chin. I’m suddenly overcome by tears and so much crying makes it easy to just pretend I don’t have a report due at the end of summer and just drifted off to sleep.
So I do.
~
When I woke up my throat was sore and I know I must have been crying in my sleep. I tossed over and untangled myself from the mess that is my sheets and glanced out the window. I can scarcely see the details of the houses across the street and the sky is a shade of blue between light and dark. I adjusted my sheets and wipe my eyes a few times, brushing my hair with my fingers and looking at my shaded reflection in the darkened window. I’m sure of it now. I was crying in my sleep because I can tell that my mother has been in my room. The chair by window is moved, angled towards the bed and the blanket on it is neatly folded but when I’d left this morning it was thrown in a ball onto the seat of the chair.
I bit my lip, a habit I’ve developed, as I stripped out of my clothes and threw them in the hamper at the end of my bed by my dark wood dresser. My room is small and the furniture doesn’t match but I still love it, it’s cozy. I put on my black robe; it’s warm and new and smells like store, and a hint of the oak wood from the dresser it was in. I walk into the living room which is right off the narrow hallway that leads to all the bedrooms in the house.
My mom is lying on the couch and she sits up as she sees me approach. She’s got black hair like mine, only hers isn’t exactly natural anymore since she’s gotten old and had to die it. Her eyes are blue and full of specks of silver and green. Michael and I have our father’s eyes. Mom’s face is beautiful not matter how old she gets, she’s got crow’s feet around her eyes and when she smiles it just makes her eyes crinkle at the edges, which looks really charming on her. She’s got her hair cut into a bob and it frames her face nicely. She’s wearing a pair of fleece pajamas.
“Hey Hannah.” My mom greats me and I sank down next to her on the couch, adjusting my robe tighter around me.
“Hey mom, why aren’t you at work today?” She’s always at work, no matter the weather or her health, if she’s sick or sad she’s always there.
“You were crying today,” She paused and I know what will happen now, I’ll get the ‘boys aren’t everything’ speech because I’m sure Michael told her what happened and now I won’t be able to get a word in between mom speech.
“Your brother told me what happened, honey.” Her voice is soft and she pulls me gently closer to her so that I’m almost sitting in her lap.
I’m truly surprised she hasn’t gone into freak out mode already. I’m also surprised I’m not being lectured.
“I’ll get over it mom.” I say and lean my head on her shoulder.
“I know you will,” Pausing to brush my oily hair out of my face (I needed a shower badly), “I raised my baby strong.”
That was a lie. She was barely around to raise me, though when she was she had taught me about being strong.
“But I can’t believe Olivia would do that to you.” My mom shakes her head in disbelief and I frown.
My mom’s first name is Macy and her maiden name is Hardpawe. She is 43 years old but only looks 30, she hasn’t dated since my dad died, and she kept his last name. She’s always had a more-than-strong dislike for Olivia. I think it was because of that time when Olivia insisted we sneak out to go see that rated R movie. Or maybe it was the time she got upset at me for asking her to just go home and shower because my mom had to get the shower repaired and she used it anyways and made it leak all over the floor.
But Olivia is normally a great friend and a really understanding person. There was the time that I broke my arm so she stayed with me for a week and bought me a new purse to make me feel better. And then there was the time she took me out to the movie store to rent something funny for me and Aaron to watch one night when he was coming over. But today was a hard one. Because I didn’t know what to do, she’s my only girl friend and she’s an amazing one, when she tried to be. But this should be the last straw, shouldn’t it?
My mom kisses my forehead.
I stand up and tell her I’m going to take a shower and even though I tell her I have a report that she wants me to get done, she tells me she wants to bunker down with me and watch all the recordings of the House episodes she’s missed while she was at work. I agree to it because the only homework I need to do is my report, but if I don’t eat lunch then I should be able to finish the math. And tomorrow at the end of the day I can work on my report if the teacher ends up giving us a new due date, he said he’d send out the e mail on Thursday of this week.
I walk back down the hallway I came from and slip into my mother’s room. It’s got light yellow walls and the double bed my parents first bought when they moved in together. It’s got a black quilt on it and a few paintings hang around the room there’s a big window above the bed which is in the center of a small alcove. I walk through the archway which leads into the bathroom and turn on the lights, closing the blinds.
Slipping out of my robe I throw a washcloth into the shower and turn the water on to hot so it’ll heat up quicker. I look at myself in the mirror. I have pretty eyes, that I’m sure of. The shape of them is pretty nice too. My lips are full, though the top is a little big for my taste, though everyone argues that my lips are ‘just perfect’, it’s probably just crap lies so I normally don’t argue. I have a button nose, which is annoying but I like my bone structure. It’s nothing to brag about, but at least I don’t hate my face like some kids.
There is steam rising from the shower and I duck against the cool wall to turn the water down before I burn my back, and then after about ten seconds I step into the heavy mist of the showers water. It feels nice as my mom has left it set to massage so it’s hitting my back all over, but in the upper shoulder in a hard spurt of water. It’s wonderful. I grab the shampoo and scrub my hair; I’ve been using the same shampoo almost all my life it smells like summer and apples. Then I move on to my body wash and put conditioner into my hair.
I normally think a lot while I shower, but today I wipe my brain so it’s uneventful. I don’t want to think about today anymore then I already have. So I leave it at that. I’ve washed myself and shaved my legs two times over so they feel silky and when I rub them together they feel all slippery. I jump and squeal as my mom walks in when I’m stepping out of the shower, my hair done up in a towel turban and my body wrapped tightly as well.
“God mom, you scared me!” I frown at her, my heart is racing.
She sets down a pair of warm pajamas on the counter and fresh underwear, which is embarrassing, but no one is around to see it so I don’t care. I steal away to a corner of the bathroom and my mom goes over to fold a long developing pile of clothes by her closet so I can change in peace. Or maybe it’s because she’s finally realized the pile was still there.
I dry my body down and slip into the pajamas after coating myself in a thin layer of sweet smelling lotion. Sweet smells and warm cozy things normally make me feel better. My mom comes back in once I’m dressed and asks me to sit down, so I do. She kneels behind me and brushes my hair gently, not like I do, I tear through my hair with the brush to be done quicker, but it’s nice that she’s taking her time. It helps to take my mind off things. She does my hair in a nice French braid. I don’t have school tomorrow, so I’m free to do whatever I want for the night, except I’ve already offered up my time to watch TV with Mom.
My mom walks over to the living room and I call after her that I’ll be there in a minute. I hear a buzzing and ringing and look around my mom’s room until finally I pull a pillow up and find my cell phone, I’ve got 5 unread texts and a missed call. My cell phone has been missing for two days so it’s nice to find it. But more importantly I’ve got five unread text messages which are all from Aaron.
I read them twice over.
The first one says: ‘Hey, what’s up?’
The second: ‘You alive Anna?’
The third: ‘If you don’t reply soon I’m just going to assume you lost your phone… again.’
I laugh at that one and my face is flushed as I move to the fourth which reads ‘did you die or forget about me?’
I read the fifth one which was the one I’d just gotten when I found my phone; ‘Hey, you ok? I’m coming by in a few minutes.’
I’m immediately in total over-drive because well I know that to him it’s just some time to hang out with his best friend, but to me it’s totally different because I rush off to make sure there is not a spot on my face. And then there’s the dilemma about me and mom watching TV tonight.
I bite my lip and walk into the living room.
Mom’s asleep on the couch and I grin, doing a little victory dance, making sure to keep away from the windows just in case Aaron is in view of the house.
“Mom, wake up, I think you should go lay in bed.” She nods groggily and I lead her to her room, kissing her forehead before hearing the three knocks on the door.
Aaron and I’s code since we were about five was to knock three times and if no one answered, a fourth, just in case we didn’t hear well. I walk over to the door and swing it open as calmly as I can. “Hey.” I say softly and I hope I don’t look like I was crying.
“Hi.” He sighs and falls onto my couch within a few seconds. I sit a few cushions away from him and smile.
“What’s goin’ on?” I laugh, he looks exhausted.
“I dunno, I thought my best friend died!” He laughed “I shouldn’t have made you walk home alone.” He frowns and when I go to interrupt him and tell him I got a ride with Michael he continues, raising a finger for me to wait. “I should have known you wouldn’t really enjoy hanging with me and Olivia… especially on a date.” He shrugged.
And while he was speaking I had time to observe him.
His hair is blonde and a certain shade of brown in some places, he’s got a perfect tan and the most beautiful smile a girl (and some boys) can dream of. His face is the most handsome thing about him though; he’s got marine blue eyes and a perfectly straight nose. His lips are amazingly shaped and I have to force myself to look into his eyes as he speaks, which isn’t exactly a hard thing to do.
“Michael gave me a ride home.” I shrug.
“The devil brother being nice?” He laughs and I can’t help but join in.
“I know, who knew right?” Well I did, it was because of Aaron that he’d been nice in the first place, because he’d unknowingly ruined my day and made me cry. Whatever.
He lies down, spreads himself across the old fabric of the deep blue couch and his hair fans around his face. His hair’s not long enough to be feminine, but it’s that typical skater hair that every girl fawns about. His eyes are basically closed and I sit on the ground, facing the couch.
“Go home Air.” I laugh.
I’ve been calling Aaron ‘Air’ for almost as long as I can remember. It all started in about 3rd grade when he forgot what one plus three was, everyone called him an airhead for the day. Only he knows I meant nothing by it when I kept on calling him ‘Air’.
His eyes opened more and he blinked. “Ah, yeah, gotta go to bed, what time is it?” He blinks a few times and it’s as if now he’s really more awake because his eyes find my face and take me in. “Nice pajamas.” He grins and I’m not really sure if it’s a compliment or not, so I just frown.
I glance at the clock which is right above the television behind me “9,” I pause and laugh because well he’s normally up much later “Go home, and go to sleep right now mister.” I stand up and point at the door.
He walks by me and I’m hit by the sweet scent of the cologne he uses, plenty of guys have asked him what’s in it, because well all the girls love the way he smells. It’s all part of the attraction. Turns out his granddad’s been making the stuff since forever ago and now that he’s passed on he learned how. Of course it smells a little different, but it’s still nice.
He kisses my forehead, pauses for maybe a split second to wave and then he heads across the street and down a few houses to the red brick house with yellow siding where he and his mom and dad live. I’ve always told him how lucky he is to have a mom and a dad. Of course he says I’m lucky that I have a mom who loves us so much. But that’s stupid of him to say because I’ve never seen parents who love their kid more than his.
His parents love me too, though. I mean if at any moment in time something happened to my mom they’d invite me over and let me hang out. I used to sleep over at their house almost every night over the summers. Until we were about 10, then my mom said to stick to all girls sleep over’s because people might be a little weirded out if we were still having sleep over’s in 8th grade, or even 6th. But they still let me come over and invite me over for dinner.
Some girls view me as pretty lucky. But they don’t know the whole story, like how I have to watch every time he gets a new girlfriend and hear about how amazing they are. And then how horrible they are once Aaron’s broken up with them. It’s kind of interesting for me, and pretty funny. Aaron doesn’t attach to girls much and sometimes I wonder if he only goes out with people because he can’t stand to be alone. But who knows? Surely not me.
It’s nice to talk to him though, and on occasion comfort him when a girl actually breaks up with him. Though most of the time it’s just him pouting about how he was going to break up with them but was trying to find the right way. Aaron just doesn’t like being sad. His astrological sign is a cancer. They’re supposedly really sensitive, so maybe that’s why. But I don’t really look into all that stuff so maybe I’m just trying to defend him.
I walk down the hallway and past my mom’s room, peaking in the door and seeing her chest rising and falling as she sleeps peacefully. I shudder as my hands slide down the plaster on either side of the hallway, trying not to trip over something. The light we always left on in the kitchen was fading now and my sight becomes all fuzzy as I look into the dark that seems to crowd the hallway like a thick fog.
I groan as I walk into the door frame and cradle my shoulder in my hand, eyes wide as I walk into my room so I can see. The blinds are open though so the moonlight cascades into my room and when I curl up under my sheets, still warm from when I’d slept in them earlier.
I turned my back to the moonlight and stare at the plaster of the wall for a moment before closing my eyes and drifting into sweet sleep.
~
The sun is falling through my window and onto my eyelids, warming my sleepy cold face and I sit up in bed, the shoulder of my shirt slipping to the side. Soon, I’m standing in the kitchen sorting through the things in the fridge. Mom’s gone off to work and it sounds like Michael’s sleeping, I can hear is snore all the way in the kitchen. There’s nothing too good in the freezer so I settle for a toaster pastry, and it’s an apple one, so it’s ok.
It spins on the dish in the microwave and my phone vibrates in the pocket of my pajama pants and I pull it out quickly, hoping the quiet noise wouldn’t stir the sleeping bear that is my brother. I’ve been sleeping with my phone in the pocket of my pajamas since I got it, it’s a security thing. It makes me feel like if anything ever happened at night (since mom is normally gone) I could whip out my phone and call the cops.
There’s a new message from Olivia and immediately I’m glaring at the screen of my phone, my calm morning attitude suddenly taken over with that annoyed rage that could only be called anger.
The text reads: ‘Hey girly I’m at your door.’
I frown and the microwave blares its’ loud beep, my food is ready. I leap at the microwave and open the door before it has a chance to beep again. I never really understood why they made those stupid things beep so loud! It would probably wake the neighbors if you let it beep for long enough. Or maybe even if you just had your window open at the same time they did.
There’s another text as I throw the pastries down on my plate and I glare at my phone, reading the text: ‘Answer the door, or I’ll ring the bell and wake your brother!’
She never was the kind of girl who could deal with being ignored. Maybe that was why Aaron likes her so much, because she’s so incredibly confident. But then again where did the line between confidence and being full of yourself blur? I wasn’t quite sure, but lately Olivia seemed to be more towards full of herself. Maybe that was what he liked then; girls who didn’t need sweet words to keep their happiness levels nice and high.
I feel the sides of my mouth curve down and set down my breakfast, walking to the door. I swing it open and look at Olivia as calmly as I can, hoping what my heart is feeling isn’t showing through on my face. Her blonde hair flows back in the wind, long curls cascading around her. She’s got blue eyes and she’s smiling, she doesn’t look even a bit guilty. I’m secretly wondering if she remembers that I’ve liked Aaron for longer than she’s even known him.
I part my lips with the intention of speaking but the only thing I can manage is an annoyed sigh.
“Hey!” She spoke the first real word first in her squeaky voice that I’d never really found annoying until now.
“Hi.” My voice is tight, like I’m restraining myself – and I am because all I can feel when I see her is anger or betrayal. That makes me feel guilty, and she’s the one who should be feeling that way.
“You’re angry.” It’s a statement and I can’t lie to her so I just nod, defeated.
“You kissed him” More words falling out without permission.
“He kissed me!”
“I’m sorry, is that supposed to make it better?” I’m giving her this angry look, I can feel it covering my face and no matter how hard I try I find I am not able to wipe it away.
There’s silence between us for a minute and I note that the sun has rose about halfway in the sky and its orange glow has fallen over the street and the kids playing on it.
“So that’s it,” I frown, focusing on the situation instead of the scenery.
“Are you saying where not friends anymore?” She’s not bothered to close her mouth after she’s spoken and I can see the tears brimming in her crystal eyes, they look like the ocean when they’re watery like that.
I feel tears in my own eyes and wave at the edges like hungry waves just waiting to knock over sand castles at the beach. I hate to see people cry, it just makes me want to cry. Once my mom cried, just one tear, because she burnt her hand, and I was hugging her and crying for thirty minutes.
I’m normally pretty tough, just some things hit me harder, like the girls who wouldn’t cry for a bug bite but would bawl at the end of a sad romance novel.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” I frown. “You don’t kiss…you wouldn’t have kissed him if we were friends! You wouldn’t be doing what you’re doing if our friendship matters to you,” I said, gulping back sobs as my tears smear down the soft skin of my cheeks.
“Forgive me.” She murmurs and she’s crying too because it hurts us both, to loose ten years of friendship over this. But she knew, she was aware, the whole time she kissed him and flirted with him, that it would hurt me.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Please Hannah.”
“I just… can’t.”
“But you can!”
And she has a point, I could forgive her now and we could talk about how Aaron kisses her and how he makes her feel and in the back of my mind I could wonder if it would be like that for me and him one day. Or I could be angry and loose my best friend.
And dumbly enough option two sounds awful nice right now.
We stood there for a minute longer, me admiring the sun which had moved up further changing all the roofs to variations of their original colors with orange tints, and her looking past me and into the house maybe she was thinking, or remembering the good times. I sighed and she stepped away from the door, turning away. I tried not to slam it shut but I needed to let something out so I found myself bashing the door closed, it wasn’t too loud.
I walked back into the kitchen with shuffling steps, I felt like that had affected me more then it affected her, picking up my breakfast I took a bite and stood in the center of the kitchen. I felt the warmth from inside the toaster pastry fill my mouth, it tasted like apple pie, sweet and warm like honey.
After about five minutes I finished my breakfast and dropped my plate with a splash into the side of the sink that was filled with a few inches of water and about three other cups and plates. I walked down the hallway, the lights here were off but the angled glare of the sun shot across the left wall. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do! Olivia and I had been the best of friends for years and she normally was an amazing person, always there for me when I’m down. She was the kind of best friend who brings you soup when you’re sick, she’d always been the friend that was there whenever you needed her.
But maybe now it was time I didn’t need her anymore.